Allergic to Your Obnoxiousness
by Ellawritesficssometimes
Summary: I rented the apartment above your flower shop. Two months ago you began selling a new flower that I'm allergic to. As for the solution to this snot-filled dilemma? I'll buy a new bouquet every day until I figure out which one it is. Prucan one-shot!


**A/N:** Hello again! This one-shot was a prompt given to me by one of my most dearest readers, **Red-Hot Habanero**. This beautiful soul has literally given me all of the confidence that I hold in my writing today, reviewing all the way back to when I first uploaded the Princess and the Twat last December. It just shows you how one person's kindness can instill inspiration and potential in others. Honestly, I can't express enough how grateful I am. I would have never continued writing if I hadn't received such kind words of encouragement :D

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Got a one-shot prompt that you'd like me to write? See my profile for more details~!

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 **Allergic to Your Bullshit:**

 _Tabarnac! Today just isn't my day,_ I thought as I poured my frustrations into yet another snot-soaked Kleenex. Mon Dieu, there were actually spots of blood in it this time. My sinuses must have finally decided to give out after a full two months of coughing, wheezing, sniffling, and incessantly blowing my nose.

I sighed and brought the blood-speckled Kleenex away from my face, discarding it into a near by trash can. The deep, rich colour of the blood, _my_ blood, brought an unwanted, yet all too familiar image, or rather, person to mind. Gilbert Beilschmidt, the cocky drunkard who owned a flower shop on the bottom floor of my apartment building, had eyes that were the exact same shade of red.

I found myself scowling at the very thought of that obnoxiously loud albino man. Every day I had to walk past his flower shop, forcing myself to ignore his cheerful smile and ear deafening shouts of "Guten morning, Birdie!" or "Don't you look as chipper as always!" or my personal 'disfavourite', "The hipster is strong with this one!"

Gosh! Just because I wear flannel shirts and ripped jeans all the time doesn't mean that I'm a hipster! Oh yeah, Birdie was the nickname that that cocky prick had given to me because of my alleged 'flight-like tendencies.' Apparently, I fly past him on my way upstairs, but in reality, I'm just trying to avoid any sort of conversation with him. I suppose that my superior dodging skills must have ruffled his feathers the wrong way.

Call me a loner all you want, but I've just about had it up to here when it comes to dealing with loud people. In fact, moving away for college was one of the best decisions that I've ever made. I finally had some peace and quiet in my life. I could commit myself to my studies without having to worry about any unintended interruptions, or in the case of my lunatic twin brother, Alfred, explosions.

Sure, I still got daily goodnight calls from my brother, which was more like him screaming that he couldn't hear me and me hanging up on him because he was too stupid to shut off the mute button, but all in all, the majority of my day was douchebag free.

My roommate was tolerable. In fact, we got along quite well. We were both private and quiet in nature. Heck, Lars was so chill that we occasionally smoked some hella good weed together. Life was good to me during the first few months of living here. Everything changed when Gilbert decided to move into the building, however.

The apartment complex that I lived in was mostly occupied by students. The University was only a few blocks away, and the convenience of living here outweighed the slightly overpriced cost of rent. Unfortunately, the appeal of living so close to campus was strong enough to convince Gilbert to move into the bottom unit of the building. It was the ideal place for a hoser like him to make money selling flowers to the young couples who commonly passed by in the area.

At first, I didn't have a problem with him. It was only when the parties took off and my bedroom walls started to vibrate that he struck up a chord with me. Weekend mornings were the absolute worse of it all. If I ever left my apartment, I did my best to avoid him, and for the most part I was able to. He was usually too hungover to string together a coherent sentence anyways.

It was when I came back, however, that the flirting and teasing truly started. Hence, the reason why I bolt for the stairwell every time that I pass by his shop. I could only take so much of that cocky smirk of his. Not to mention the degrading cat calls and overall pathetic attempts to hustle me into buying a bouquet of flowers. No apparently means ' _pester the godamn shit out of potential customers until they have a mental breakdown and buy your poorly-watered cellulose sticks of unequivocal failure_ ' in his eyes. I'm very proud to say that I've stood my ground, and I have yet to buy a single flower from that loud-mouthed prick.

Speaking of flowers, this brings me to the reason why I'm a sniffling mess right now. You see, I've always been a sickly kid. I'm allergic to pretty much everything on this planet, no joke. Perfume, dogs, cats, shaved hamsters (ahem, nice try Alfred), nuts, kiwis, eggs, you name it. But one thing that I haven't found an allergy to is flowers. That is until two months ago, when Gilbert changed up his front display and ordered a whole new array of different flower types.

Whatever they were, one of them, if not all, were driving my allergies up the wall. I could hardly study without my eyes tearing up or having snot drip all over the paper. I looked like I was in a permanent state of break-up mode, or in Alfred's case, his face when a McDonald's employee refuses to give him a Happy Meal toy.

Now, I know what you're probably thinking. Surely, it can't be that bad, right? Believe me I've heard and tried just about every possible solution. The allergy pills turned me into a bug-eyed insomniac, and holding my breath when I passed by Gilbert's flower shop didn't stop the scent of whatever treacherous flower that was causing all of this to waft up through the ventilation system.

Basically, I'm stuck living as is, miserable, cranky, and most definitely butthurt, but far too shy to do anything about it. I would rather keep my silence than snoop around Gilbert's shop and potentially risk another conversation with him. All I could do was pray that he would eventually discontinue selling that miserable species of flower.

After yet another sneezing fit, one that most definitely woke up the entire building, I decided that it would be a good time to get some fresh air and clear my head. Besides, it was my turn to shop for groceries this week, and if I left early enough, I wouldn't have to run into Gilbert on my way out. Cheers to being an introverted coward, eh?

…

I staggered under the weight of my grocery bags, refusing to accept the inconvenience of making several trips back and forth to my car. Although, having to pass by an obnoxious albino to get up to my apartment proved to be far more inconvenient than simple stubbornness. I deliberately stood outside Gilbert's flower shop and waited for the exact moment that he was turned away to make a mad, slightly limping and lopsided dash for the stairwell. It was unfortunate that the extra weight I carried slowed me down considerably.

I was about half way past Gilbert's shop when the inevitable happened; the prick spotted me. "Guten morning, Birdie! What brings you down here so early today?"

I groaned and turned around to face Gilbert, blushing immediately while doing so. He was wearing a simple black v-neck t-shirt, loose, ripped jeans, and a green gardener's apron. His outfit was casual, but it was the way he conducted himself that made Gilbert much more interesting. His fair, white hair was ruffled in what I vehemently opposed to acknowledge as a cute, bed-head inspired sort of style. The whole left side of his head was sticking up in one massive cowlick. And then there was his grin, the _stupid_ ear-to-ear smile that caused my heart to incessantly pound in my chest for whatever reason. I still haven't figured out why. Sure, Gilbert was cute, but a guy could be cute without me having feelings for him, you know. Not to mention the fact that I've stressed _multiple_ times before that this guy was a first-class butthole.

I bit my lip to stifle a grunt of pain. The plastic handles of the grocery bag were cutting off the circulation in my fingers. "Yes, yes, good morning to you too," I grumbled irately. I spared a smirking Gilbert one last glance before I turned on my heels and set off for the stairwell again. I couldn't spend too long in the shop, otherwise, a sneezing smell would be sure to ensue.

But, of course, Gilbert wouldn't let me get away without having his fair share of teasing first. The albino cupped his large, bear-like hands over his mouth and called after me. "Oi! Do you need any help carrying those? It wouldn't be very awesome of me to let a fellow neighbor trip and fall to their death!"

I humphed to myself and kept on walking.

Gilbert's heavy footsteps clambered after my retreating figure. "Mein gott, I know that you don't like me, but it wouldn't kill you to accept some help every now and then!"

So the moron was self-aware of his obnoxiousness to others. How very interesting, and by interesting, I mean that I couldn't give a moose's ass.

The sharp retort on my tongue fell short when I felt a familiar itch tickle my nose. It wasn't long before my face scrunched up and I let out a violent sneeze, followed by yet another violent sneeze, which was followed by a down right explosive sneeze. I had no choice but to stop and wait to see if I had any more sneezes left in me. Because Lord knows that they were coming, and coming they did.

"ACHOO!"

"Tabarnac!"

"ACHOO!"

"Maple!"

 **"ACHOO!"**

Gilbert chuckled, while I cleared my throat and blinked away the tears from my eyes. "That's some cold you got there," he remarked.

I readjusted the grocery bags in my hands and swallowed to alleviate the uncomfortable itch at the back of my throat. "It's not a cold," I sniffed. "It's just * _sneeze_ * allergies."

For some reason, my eyes teared up again as Gilbert strolled, or rather, pranced over to stand before me. If I had to guess, my bet would be that his blinding paleness had something to do with it. The albino, who obviously had deeper ulterior motives hidden behind his supposedly 'kind, neighborly gesture', held out a hand for me to give him a bag.

I sighed and looked up into leering, ruby red eyes. "It's fine, really," I huffed. "These bags aren't too heavy to manage. Thanks for the offer, though." I winced at how wimpy I sounded. My inner dialogue was always sarcastic, but when it came to real life interactions, I was about as passive and demure as a day-old kitten. Curse me for my shyness….

Gilbert cocked his head to the side, looking like a confused puppy. His eyes were tired, presumably from nursing a Friday night hangover, but the wide, Cheshire-like grin was still ever present on his dopey face.

"Alright, Mr. Manly man, have right at it. Go ahead and kill your posture, I won't stop you."

Once again, my response was cut off short by yet another sneezing spell, except this time, if you can believe it, it was far worse than any other fit that I've ever experienced before. By the time that I was done sneezing, my sinuses were as dry as sandpaper. Snot was dribbling down my chin (luckily, out of politeness, I had turned away from Gilbert to let it all out), and my eyes were swimming with excess moisture, which would explain why my glasses were all fogged up.

Gilbert's failed attempt to hide his snickers must have set something off in me because I sneezed again. This time, the sneeze caught me so off guard that I dropped my groceries…all of them.

I cursed and scrambled to grab the eager soup cans that rolled halfway across the shop. It took me a while to gather them all together because I was stopping multiple times to sneeze. By the time that I had made my way back over to Gilbert, he had gathered together the rest of my fallen groceries, the five or so bags casually dangling from his wrists as if they weighed nothing to him. What truly pissed me off was the smug smirk that he had plastered on his face. Could he be _anymore_ patronizing?!

I grit my teeth together and scowled. "What's so funny?"

Gilbert snickered. "Kesesese. I'm just laughing at how much of a hipster you are! I mean seriously, Sriracha sauce? Vegan spinach patties? Organic beet hummus? What's breakfast for you? A bowl of glitter and several generous gulps of pollution-free air?"

While Gilbert chortled and made lame jokes (at my expense) to boost his self-proclaimed awesomeness, I seized the opportunity to snatch back my remaining groceries from him. I slammed the cans of soup into a random bag, uncaring to the fact that they were crushing my custom-made samosa pastries. The albino's egotistical words fell on deaf ears.

"So what if I have multicultural tastes?" I grumbled, standing up straight to look Gilbert right in his amused, red eyes.

Observe, dear readers, as the timidly sarcastic Matthew goes straight for the kill. "At least I'm not the delicate snowflake who sells flowers for a living." Gilbert's jaw dropped open, causing me to smile and experience the wonderful feeling that a shit-disturber gets when they find the one thing that truly gets under their target's skin.

"Now if you'll please excuse me, I have a physics midterm to study for." I skirted around Gilbert only to stop when something very unexpected happened. He didn't call out after me. There were no catcalls, no ear-splitting whistles, and definitely no irkingly familiar bouts of ' _kesese_ ' laughter.

I stopped and looked over my shoulder to meet Gilbert's pouting gaze. The albino's face had flushed to a bright shade of pink. One hand reached over his head to shyly rub at the back of his neck.

"What's wrong with flowers? If you ask me, it's pretty awesome how people can convey their feelings through other living beings. Each flower has its own story, its own meaning, and its own unique layer of complex interpretations. There's a reason why so many people have found love and happiness because of these things. They evoke emotion and begin their own stories. I'm just the lucky sucker who gets to watch them unfold."

I pursed my lips together. There was much more to Gilbert than what I had initially thought. He was still a cocky douche nonetheless, but he was a douche who went beyond the trivialized trope of your typical 'party-happy frat boy.' He was a real person grounded by real interests, admirations, and affections. I would have never thought that this 'lean, mean albino machine' (his words, not mine) could think so deeply, let alone poetically. It was almost…touching to see this previously unknown side of him. I was completely taken aback.

"That's…actually really sweet," I murmured, and oh so brilliantly at that.

Gilbert cleared his throat and shrugged his shoulders, taking away from the seriousness of the moment prior. "Ja, well, whatever. It's not like _you_ would understand. You haven't once bought a flower from me! Which is soooo not awesome by the way."

I rolled my eyes. "I wonder why. Screaming at the top of your lungs is far from an effective way of getting customers to buy your products."

Gilbert mockingly brought a hand to his chest. "Tsk! Is that how you speak to your savior?!"

"Savior?" I questioned.

"Why, I was the one who saved your precious Vegan patties from falling victim to the ten second rule!"

I shook my head in disbelief. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope!"

"Oh fine, I'll buy a damn flower. Pick whichever one you want. I don't really care." The sooner that I got to my apartment, the better. My fingers were cramping up, and Gilbert's ego was way too stifling to handle. There was also the fact that I was an introvert, which meant that any social interaction took up a lot of energy on my part.

Gilbert's face blanched. "You're shitting me?"

I sighed, set down my grocery bags by the front counter, and pulled out my wallet from my front jean pocket. "I'm not the one who looks like he's about to wet himself from excitement. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get this over with. I have very busy day ahead of me," I whispered/ yelled in a bored tone, clicking my tongue in annoyance.

"S-Sure! Just gimme a second! I'll find something that totally speaks to your awe…um..er…never mind."

"Eh?"

"Oh, don't mind me! I tend to spout useless, irrelevant shit whenever I'm hungover like this."

I simply let the topic drop at hand. I was far too done at this point to care.

Gilbert, who had suddenly become very excited, just about stumbled over to the display where he kept his most popular bouquets. After deliberating and muttering nonsensical gibberish under his breath, something about how certain flowers weren't awesome enough to tell _my_ story, Gilbert moved on to the wooden shelf where he kept his single, potted plants. It was there where he procured a matted green ceramic pot containing hollyhock flowers the very same shade of violet as my eyes.

After paying for the flower, and waiting an unnecessary amount of time for Gilbert's beer-locked mind to come up with the right amount of change, I inadvertently brought the flower to my nose and sniffed it. Upon realizing my mistake, my eyes widened. I then prepared myself for the sneeze that never came.

My brows furrowed in confusion, slowly raising with peaking curiosity when an interesting sort of revelation dawned on me. Since I didn't know what flower I was allergic to, I had to be careful when it came to walking around in Gilbert's shop. But, what if I _purposely_ exposed myself to different flowers?

My plan would go something like this; I would make a check list, and everyday I would buy a new flower/ bouquet from Gilbert's shop. Once I had pinpointed the offending flower, the solution would be to get rid of it by buying them all out. I would then make sure to voice my complaints to Gilbert about how this very flower wilted too quickly and that it was a total waste of my 'hard-earned' money. Voila! Gilbert would never sell that type of flower again, and I would no longer be a snotty, miserable mess all the time!

Sure, I could always just ask Gilbert about the new types of flowers that he's been buying lately, but that would mean defeat, and I wasn't about to let that prick have something else to tease me about. In my eyes, I would rather go broke than let Gilbert know that he had the power to make me suffer all the time. Sometimes it was just best to let your stubbornness take you where you needed to go. My stubbornness just so happened to take me on a friendly spy mission that involved lawful, contributive spending as opposed to good old traditional sabotage.

…

Two weeks passed by and my masterful plan has yet to produce any results. My sanity was declining by the day. I had gotten so wrapped up in my investigation that I had made a chart to document every flower and bouquet that I bought from Gilbert. Fourteen days and fourteen different flowers, none of which were the offending flower in question.

Lars as well was beginning to show some mild concern for my mental well-being. This was mostly because there was a pile of half-dead flowers lying on top of our living room table. It didn't help that I had hung a calendar counting down to the end of the 'Douchpocalypse' on our kitchen fridge. What can I say? I couldn't wait to go back to ignoring Gilbert again. Dealing with his half-drunken pick-up lines and brazenly loud voice was too much to handle for a flat, reserved individual like myself.

Either way, I don't think that Lars minded my occasional cackles of evil laughter or the additional presence of flowers in the apartment. In fact, he had even gone so far as to place some tulips in a vase. He seemed to be particularly fond of those flowers for some reason.

Anyways, every morning started off the same way. I would take a casual stroll downstairs, pick out a new flower, and buy it. Of course, Gilbert just had to complicate things by constantly oscillating between states that made him somewhat likeable or, on the other hand, annoying and rude. I couldn't figure out why he always got so red-faced whenever we established eye contact. Like gosh, I was just buying a flower. No need to get so attached to a customer!

It goes to say that that attachment quickly turned into clinginess, which then, unfortunately, turned into cockiness. Gilbert got prouder and prouder (as made apparent by the way that he puffed up his chest like a testosterone-filled human equivalent of a peacock) as the days passed by, mainly because he was amazed that he could actually manage to hold down a conversation with me. He was a man of many words, most of which were stupid, and I was a man of few words, most of which were concise and carefully thought out observations.

I didn't need to say much to convey how silly and over the top Gilbert was. It was always amusing for me to watch him fumble to correct himself the moment that I opened my mouth. This would explain why I was grinning and humming to myself as I popped through the front door of Gilbert's shop, smirking as the familiar jingle of the bells caused said albino to jolt up from his slumped over position on the sales counter; it wasn't uncommon for the goon to nap whilst on the job. Lazy bum…

Gilbert rubbed at his eyes, and it wasn't long before I was blinded with a wide, slightly predatory grin. "Guten morning!"

I smirked _. And what a shitty day to you, asshole._

Unfortunately, my snappy comment fell short of execution. "Um…yeah… hey…"

 _God damnit Matthew_.

I walked over to the front counter, purposefully ignoring the eager pair of red eyes watching my every move. At least my mission had been somewhat successful. I've managed to figure out that the flower I'm allergic to is stationed somewhere near the cash area. The sneezing fits always get worse when I stand there.

As I poked around, looking for a new flower to buy, Gilbert huffed and crossed his arms. "How come you were late today?" he asked, his lips pursed in an almost comical pout.

I stifled a sigh and kept pawing a hand through the different bouquets that were laid on display; Gilbert had never been one for organization. "I had a late night Chem midterm. 'Didn't get back home until eleven last night," I yawned.

Gilbert clicked his tongue in irritation. It had become increasingly obvious to me that he enjoyed my morning visits. I, on the other hand, didn't because most often enough he asked me a bunch of unnecessary questions. At first, he had simply wanted to know why I was buying _his_ flowers in the first place. I had merely told him that I was being a good neighbor. You can only guess that that answer wasn't good enough for him.

He then wanted to know if I was buying these flowers for a special someone. Never being one to lie explicitly to another's face, I had said no, naively thinking that my honest reply would be enough to satisfy his unwarranted curiosity. I couldn't have been more wrong. His questions got more and more personal as the days went by. The weirdest one so far was him asking me if I liked birds. That boy was a whack job, all right.

"So? I partied all night! You don't see me slacking off!"

"Says the guy who was just sleeping in a lake of his own drool," I scoffed.

Gilbert laughed and walked around the corner to join me in my flower reaping. What the albino didn't see, however, was the garden hose that snaked along the edges of the front counter. With a surprised yelp, Gilbert tripped and fell forward. Using the reflexes that I had acquired from playing hockey when I was younger, I reached out with both hands to catch Gilbert by his shoulders, stabilizing him in place.

"You sure that you're still not drunk?" I joked, shyly dropping my hands back to my sides.

Gilbert's face flushed a warm pink. "N-nein…" the albino faltered when he saw that my face had scrunched up in preparation for an oncoming sneeze. "Uh…you okay there, Birdie?"

"ACHOOO!"

"Here let me get you a Kleenex."

"Just give me… a…ACHOO!... second, will ya?"

When the sneezing stopped, Gilbert procured a kleenex from the front pocket of his gardening apron. The smug grin on his face told me that he had been anticipating this all along.

I snatched the kleenex from him just in time to catch another sneeze. The sneezing lessened up when Gilbert took a few steps back to give me some space. And then, it hit me.

"Gilbert?" I sniffled.

"Ja?"

"Come closer."

"Just do it!" I snapped, blowing my nose viciously.

Gilbert complied and stepped closer. As predicted, the sneezing spell got worse.

"Okay, now take a few steps back."

"What is this, the cha-cha slide?"

"Don't test me, bird boy." I glared at Gilbert through teary eyes, causing him to gulp and take another few steps back.

The sneezing stopped.

Without so much as a thought, I stormed up to Gilbert, grabbed him by the collar of his graphic-tee canary print shirt, and pulled him down to eye level. I then took a good whiff of his collar bone, and it was there where I found the source of my misery. It wasn't the flowers that were causing my allergies! It had been his cheap-smelling cologne all along!

I let go of Gilbert's shirt and thrust him away. "V-vhat was that for?!"

I was too busy crying out of relief. Tears and snot alike trickled down my face. I blubbered and brought a flannel sleeve to wipe at the precarious liquids. "It's finally over! Who would have thought that it would be perfume of all things?! I'm free, free at last!"

I then proceeded to dance and skip about, singing all the while. "Ding dong, the wicked douche is dead~!"

Gilbert scratched his head in confusion. "Wait, I'm so confused. Who's dead?"

"You are!" I laughed. "I've finally figured it out! Ahahaha!"

"Verdammt! Figured out what?!"

"Oh Gillly, you silly, silly little man-child. Don't you see? It isn't your flowers that I'm allergic to! It's your sleazy, 'eau-de-deutschbag' cologne!"

"Okay…" Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Putting aside your salty attitude, that still doesn't explain anything to me…"

I huffed and halted my victory dance right in its painfully cringey tracks. "Oh fine. If I _must_ explain: I was buying your stupid flowers because I wanted to figure out which one I was allergic to. You bought several new flower types a few months back, and I thought that _they_ were the ones causing my allergies to act up. Turns out, I was wrong! So, if you could kindly refrain from wearing that acrid shitshow that you call cologne, it would be immensely appreciated!"

Gilbert bowed his head, no doubt immersed in a frantic internal dilemma. ' _Old man Fritz promised me that this would attract all the chicks.'_ The albino pursed his lips in contemplation. ' _Or dudes,'_ he added in as an after thought.

It took me a while for my laughter to die down, but when it did, Gilbert surprised me yet again by holding out his right hand. I extended the hand that wasn't used to blow my brains out to shake hands with him. His palms were rough with callouses, matching the firmness of his grip all too well.

"Deal, but only if you actually acknowledge me when I say good morning to you."

I bit my lip and scrunched up my nose, like a picky toddler who had just had a batch of freshly steamed broccoli shoved in front of their face. "Ugh, fine."

"You act like that's such a big deal…"

"How would you feel if you had to wake up to the half-drunken shouts of an obnoxious and not to mention _loud_ salesman every morning?"

"Wow, passive aggressive much?"

The albino knew me well. "Gilbert, I think that this is the beginning of a beautiful rivalry."

Gilbert grinned right back at me. "But of course! Now bring it here, you sriracha-loving sour puss!"

The albino spread out his arms, and against my better judgement, I let him trap me in a friendly bear hug. Several stifled sneezes later, I pulled away, straightened my posture, and dabbed at my dripping nose.

Gilbert mockingly batted his eyelashes at me, which was bizarre, but at this point I was beyond caring. Gilbert was nothing short of a weirdo, and yet I was the weirdo who willingly put up with him on a daily basis.

"Are you sure that it's not my awesomeness you're allergic to?"

I smirked. "Nope, just your bullshit."

 **~Ze Ende~**


End file.
